I am a great fan of musicals, so when I heard about the movie Moulin Rouge,
I was intrigued, particularly since the musical has gone out of fashion
even where it is most expected; Disney’s recent lack of musical
numbers, particularly sung by a film’s characters, has been most
disheartening. But Moulin Rouge went on my long list of
films-to-see-in-the-theater whose contents generally are shifted to
films-to-see-on-video, the latter of which has grown to an unwieldy
length, and defiant loyalty compelled me to be annoyed with the movie
when it swiped two Oscars from Fellowship of the Ring. But a
hearty recommendation from a couple friends of mine and an assurance
that I would finally get to hear Ewan McGregor’s fabled brogue renewed
my interest, so when my brother fell in love with the soundtrack last
week, I was happy – until I discovered a hearty dislike for the songs he
chose to play in mass repetition, particularly Because We Can. So when his infatuation with the soundtrack naturally led to a movie rental, I was a bit leery.
I have come to the conclusion that generally speaking, I am a Bear of
Very Little Brain who prefers her movies straightforward and able to be
taken at face value. An overarching sense of serenity doesn’t hurt
either. So I perceived the first twenty or so minutes of Moulin Rouge
as an assault on my senses, complete with wildly flashing images and a
series of frantically energetic songs equally conducive to epileptic
shock. The headache these opening scenes gave me was not encouraging,
but I noted with some satisfaction that Christian’s (Ewan McGregor) face
during this portion of the movie registered a series of contortions
alternating among bewilderment, awe and nausea. Ultimately, it was this
idealistic young writer who allowed me to fall in love with the movie
despite my reservations. Moulin Rouge is his story, one which we
understand by the broken state in which we find him at the beginning has
taken a great toll on him. My brother commented that it’s never good
when a movie starts out depressing and then goes into a flashback. But
this movie careens so madly between quiet, gut-wrenching tragedy and
joyfully choreographed chaos that the audience often forgets the
haunting, inversely prophetic image of Christian, a year after the main
events of the film, sitting at his typewriter in obvious anguish. Though
he remains throughout the movie as a device to move along the
narration, he is easy to overlook once another flashy dance number
begins.
McGregor’s earnest performance as the lovestruck naif
charmed me immediately. His face is marvelously expressive, but I most
enjoyed the glorious smiles he so generously bestowed upon the audience.
With the all too serious Obi-Wan Kenobi as my primary McGregor
reference point, I was startled by his dashing exuberance. While his
gleaming teeth and boyish dimples brilliantly conveyed his joy, it was
the task of his eyes to carry the weight of his most grueling scenes.
Add to that the worth-the-wait Scottish accent and a smoothly satisfying
singing voice, and you have a most laudable lead in Ewan McGregor.
But before I get accused of dissolving into fangirlishness – an
embarrassment I only intend to allow myself when referring to Clay Aiken
and Billy Boyd – let me hastily add that Nicole Kidman is equally
impressive. I tend to get far less excited about actresses than actors,
but I am perfectly willing to concede that Kidman is one of the
loveliest and most talented actresses in films today. My first
impression of her in the much-maligned Far and Away has been
confirmed with each new role I see her in. As Satine, a performer at the
Moulin Rouge who dreams of true stardom, she exudes cool confidence on
the stage but lapses into vulnerability when Christian allows her to
experience love for the first time. Her overly sensual antics towards
the beginning of the film were a bit of a turn-off for me - though I had
to admit her double-entendre-laced Tevye-and-Lazar Wolf-style scene
with Christian was pretty entertaining - but when she displayed her true
feelings she was a very appealing and sympathetic character. I was also
impressed by her singing voice, especially during her wispy inner
monologues and spirited duets with Christian. Its tone was very pleasing
and seemed a bit of a throwback to a WWII-era singing style. It also
reminded me a lot of Helen Reddy's voice in Pete's Dragon.
The acting all around was solid, with particularly noteworthy
performances by Jim Broadbent, Richard Roxburgh and John Leguizamo.
Broadbent portrays Harold Zidler, the nightclub owner who is by turns
jolly and sinister but consistently over-the-top. His is a broadly comic
role, and we get the impression he is constantly trying to keep things
under control but never quite succeeding. His absurd performance of Like a Virgin
with the Duke (Roxburgh) is a comedic highlight. Zidler comes across as
a decent if slightly unscrupulous fellow. The Duke, meanwhile, is the
most villainous character in the film, yet his ridiculous false teeth,
pointy mustache, bad comb-over and irritating accent make him as
laughable as he is creepy. And though we never want Satine to wind up
with him, it’s hard not to feel a little sorry for this scorned wooer.
The petrified facial expressions he offers in response to a number of
musical assaults are hilarious. Leguizamo takes on the role of the
Bohemian Henri Toulouse Lautrec with great gusto. He’s a wacky character
whose cheeriness and romanticism make him especially likable. The role
proved an unusual challenge for Leguizamo, as he had to present the
appearance of being less than five feet tall.
Moulin Rouge
is a musical, but it is unusual in that most of its music is derived
from other sources. The film pays tribute to dozens of films with both
the music used and the way certain scenes are staged. I must admit to
not being crazy about most of the louder, flashier numbers, though they
are very well done. Generally, the more elaborate the choreography and
the more people are involved, the sillier the song is. The number in
which Christian, Zidler, Satine and the Bohemians pitch their play to
the Duke is incredibly complex and quite amusing. I enjoyed hearing the
film’s take on Your Song and several other classics, but I found the most powerful performance to be the final reprise of Come What May,
the song Christian and Satine create to pledge their love to one
another. The scene that accompanies it heightens all of the emotions
that have been building throughout the rest of the film, ending in a
sublime moment of triumph.
I’m all for happy endings, so there’s a part of me that says I would have preferred that Moulin Rouge
drop the “tragi” in tragi-comic. As bright and boisterous as the film
gets, it cannot escape the other half of its description. However, it’s
the quieter, more honest scenes, many of which are associated with the
darker side of the film, that I usually enjoyed the most, so I won’t
complain that the film went on just a bit longer than was needed to give
me the finale I was hoping for. Moulin Rouge is a unique film,
and it takes some getting used to. I wouldn’t even necessarily trust
your first viewing to give you your final opinion of it. Stick with it,
and if you’re spending an inordinate amount of time scratching your
head, watch it once again, with the commentary if you’ve got it. It’s
worth the extra effort.
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